There is hope!

I know this is a novel, but I want to share my TTC story up to this point. For the past fifteen months my husband and I have been trying to conceive. In January we suffered a miscarriage just shy of 7 weeks. In June, we started our first of three rounds of clomid - none of which were successful. My husband took an at-home sperm-check test and the results came back negative, meaning he had low sperm count. I didn't even know he took the test. We got in the car one day and he handed me the results and said "It's my fault." I spent the last year temping, taking ovulation tests and making sacrifices JUST in case it was my month, only to be disappointed time and time again. After meeting with my doctor in August we decided it would be best if my husband and I see a fertility specialist. We quickly learned that our insurance does not cover fertility treatments (but it covers abortions. Don't get me started!), but we know we want a child and are willing to do whatever it takes. I waited until my next cycle (again, just in case it was my month) to call and schedule an appointment. AF came and went and I finally made the call in mid September. We gave our credit card information (they need it up front) and took the first slot they had (December 1st). Well, we decided we were going to stop everything until then. No temping. No ovulation kits. No prenatal vitamins. No preseed (we only tried this for two months). No sacrificing my life. We were just going to live our lives without the stresses of baby making. We weren't even going to think about it. I took a trip to visit family out-of-state. We scheduled our Hawaii vacation for next spring. We were having great sex! Everything was going perfectly. We were enjoying what would be our last free month before the non-stop appointments and financial burden of fertility treatments. Fast forward to last week. I had my wisdom teeth removed on October 28th under local anesthesia. I was prescribed an antibiotic and Tylenol 3 for the pain. I spent the next three days barely eating and laying on the couch. Monday I went back to work. Although on a soft diet, I should have been feeling better. Nope. I had to leave work early on Tuesday because I felt so nauseous. I went home and went straight to bed, where I stayed for the next twelve hours catching up on sleep. When I woke up Wednesday, I felt sick to my stomach so I rolled over and took my temp to see if it was normal. 98.11. We'll, that's weird. That's usually where it is after I ovulate until it starts dropping a couple days before AF. AF was due the next day so it should be much lower than that. It wasn't high enough to be a fever and I really didn't feel warm. What was going on? So I got up and decided to take a pregnancy test just in case. I took the test and left it on the counter while I got ready for work. I fully intended to run back upstairs and check the result in three minutes, but I totally forgot until 45 minutes later when I went to brush my teeth. It was positive. I figured it was a false result since so much time had passed, but spent the entire work day reflecting on all of the other times I (and I hate to admit this) pulled tests out of the garbage hours later just to double check  - those were always blatantly negative! Why did this one look positive? So, when I got home from work, I went straight to the bathroom and took three different tests. Not one. Not two. THREE. I prepared myself for negative results, especially because it wasn't FMU. And guess what, they're all positive! Game 7 was about to start when I handed my husband a keychain I had bought months before. It read "daddy since 2017". He stared at if for a few minutes not knowing what to make of it until I blurted out "were pregnant."  He was in total disbelief until I dragged him upstairs to show him my collection of positive tests. We didn't care what the result of the Cubs/Indians game was, because we had already won. Now we'll always remember game 7 of the World Series! Funny how we can try so hard for over a year without good results and then the moment we stop trying we get our BFP!!! We have our first appointment in a week and a half and are remaining cautiously optimistic. The point of this novel is to tell those struggling that there is hope and you never know when your time will come. Baby dust to all!!